Somewhere Under the Rainbow
by Swing Girl At Heart
Summary: After an accident in New York eight years after the original Gleeks have graduated, Will is forced into a new career with a dubious job description.  And to make matters worse, Rachel's his new boss.  Expect the Unexpected.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: So, this is part of the _Expect The Unexpected_ series I'm working on, which is, frankly, exactly what it sounds like. As part of my everlasting quest to defy any and all possible cliches, something completely unfathomable occurs with one member of the Glee club in each fic of the series. The goal? To have each character (even Matt and Mike, poor underfed pups) so far out of their league, but still remain in character. This is installment number eight, but none of them are connected plot-wise, so there aren't any prequels you have to read for any of them. Some will be tragic, some scary, some mysterious, some humorous. Enough jabber - please enjoy!

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_Somewhere Under The Rainbow_**  
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William Schuester, age forty-four, was not a man who believed in things such as fate or destiny. It took a lot for him to even wonder if God existed – he always had more pressing things to be thinking about rather than debating religion and the laws of the metaphysical. He was a simple guy, more concerned with down-to-earth issues. Had he believed in fate and destiny and all the crap that came with it, he might have woken up on the morning of his death with some sort of premonition that it was his last day among the living. But he didn't.

He was in New York City at the time, chaperoning a field trip for the Glee club he ran at his school to compete at the National High School Show Choir Competition (and wasn't _that_ a mouthful?). They were all staying at a somewhat-shitty hotel ten blocks away from the auditorium the competition was being held at, and the day before the tournament the whole group had gone out for pre-performance ice cream to celebrate what they were sure was going to be a win. Will's Glee club had never won Nationals, but they'd always managed to show every year.

So, as he and the fifteen students in his charge walked along the sidewalk, eating their ice cream, they were blissfully unaware of the fact that Will had an appointment with destiny very shortly. And fateful schedules are _always_ on time.

Will came within an inch of dunking his nose into his ice cream cup when a man passing by accidentally bumped rather violently into him. "Oh, excuse me, William," the man said, brushing by.

"No problem," Will replied. Then he stopped short, turning around. "Wait, how did you—?" But the man was gone without a trace. "Huh."

Figuring that he must have misheard the guy, Will shrugged it off and turned to continue along his merry way, but he suddenly had a nagging feeling that he was being watched, and he caught sight of a young brunette standing at the nearby bus stop, staring at him with a strange look on her face. Hoping she was just staring into space and not actually at him, he jogged to catch up with his students, who had crossed the street while he was occupied and were waiting for him in front of the hotel. Unfortunately for him, a city bus was traveling a path perpendicular to his, and the _crunch_ that resounded upon impact was rather spectacular. The police would later say that he flew nearly ten feet before landing on the pavement. Which was impressive.

Now, however, Will was shocked to find himself standing back on the sidewalk, watching as his students shrieked and random passersby gathered in the middle of the road, the bus driver climbing out and staring stunned at the ground. "What the hell just happened?" he muttered to himself.

"I believe you were hit by a bus," said a girl's voice to his left, causing him to jump back in surprise.

He recognized that sharp, overly-cheery voice. And when he stepped back to see who had spoken, he also recognized the person the voice was attached to. "Don't worry, everyone is confused at first," she said with an award-winning smile.

"Rachel, what are you doing here?"

"I'm here for you."

"…I'm sorry?"

She gestured pointedly at the crowd of people gathered in the streets. Will suddenly had an unpleasant, twisting sensation in the pit of his stomach, and he edged closer to the knot of people. He wasn't sure why, but his heart had begun pounding against the inside of his ribcage. As he drew closer, a woman peeled herself out of the crowd to dial 911 (even though there were at least ten other people already doing so), leaving a gap in the circle surrounding the accident victim.

It was – at the very least – surreal for Will to see himself lying sprawled on the pavement, his limbs bent at odd angles and blood seeping out of his mouth, eyes staring blankly up at the sky. He froze the second he recognized himself, his heart pounding even harder almost to the point of pain. Tearing his eyes away from his body lying on the pavement, he ran over to Shelley, the ditzy blonde Glee captain who was staring at the blood trickling slowly onto the street with her hands clapped over her mouth, and tried to get her attention.

"Shelley, what the hell just happened?" She either didn't hear him or she ignored him, and Will reached out to grab her shoulder.

And his arm went through her.

He let out a yell of surprise and yanked his arm back and, giving it a shake, turned it back and forth to inspect it. It certainly _looked_ solid. He reached for Shelley's shoulder again, and his hand vanished with a tiny puff of green-ish dust. It reappeared as soon as he withdrew it, shaking. He waved it in front of Shelley's face, but she took no notice.

"Mr. Schuester!" called Rachel's voice from behind him. She'd followed him across the street.

He whipped around. "Rachel, what the _hell_ is going on? Why can't she see me?"

"You're dead."

Well, that was a simple answer.

"…I'm _what_?"

"Dead."

Will wasn't sure which was more disturbing – the fact that he could stick his arm through his student's head or the fact that Rachel was telling him he was dead like it was no big deal. "This isn't happening," he muttered, wringing his hands and pacing. "This – this _can't_ be happening. This is some sort of elaborate prank—"

"It's not a prank, Mr. Schuester, you really are dead," she said, sounding just slightly exasperated.

Well, excuse me, he thought, too freaked out to actually snap at her. But…if he could wave his arm and go _through_ things…then that meant she was telling him the truth. Right? Suddenly, he felt _pissed_.

"Well, why me?" he demanded. "Dammit, why _now?_ I have fifteen kids I have to take care of!" He gestured to where the current Glee club generation was huddled on the sidewalk, half of them sobbing and half of them just standing in shock.

"WMHS always requires two chaperones," Rachel stated. "I went there too, remember? Your colleague will manage just fine."

"This isn't _fair!_" Will insisted.

"Mr. Schuester," she interrupted sternly. "I am not the one who decides who lives or dies."

He stopped short, realizing for the first time that _she_ could see him just fine (took him long enough). "Wait…why am I invisible to everyone but you?" Suddenly, it hit him. "Holy… Are you _dead_?"

"Theater accident three years ago," she said with total nonchalance. "A spotlight fell on me; it was really quite tragic. Now, what do you say we get out of here? There's a diner about two blocks from here, they make _lovely_ pies—"

"No, I don't want to go out to lunch!" he snapped. "I want to know what the _hell_ I'm supposed to do now!"

"Mr. Schue, if you would just relax for a moment—"

"And _why_ are you acting like this is no big thing!" he cried.

Rachel shut her mouth for a moment before answering, "It's my job."

"What?"

"Mr. Schuester, I'm a Grim Reaper."

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**A/N: Please leave a review and tell me what you think of it. This installment was inspired by _Dead Like Me_, which is a FANTASTIC show and you should all go rent it right now. If you enjoyed the first chapter and are interested in the concept of this series, add me to Author Alert to be notified when the other installments in the series are posted. So far, Brittany's, Santana's, Tina's, Kurt's, Mercedes', Artie's, and Puck's are posted - please check them out.**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: I am having so much fun writing this. This much fun on one story should be illegal.

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_Somewhere Under the Rainbow_

As most people know, there are five stages to grief. This apparently also applies to death. Will had already zoomed through Denial, Anger, and Bargaining and was now wallowing in the shithole that was Stage Four: Depression. Rachel had all but dragged him to the diner she'd mentioned, ignoring his pleas to take some other helpless soul and refusing to tell him anything along the way unless it was about pie. Now, they sat in a booth by themselves, Will staring miserably out the window.

"This is _delicious_," she crooned as she delicately took a bite of her slice of raspberry pie. "I'd offer you a bite, but it would just go right through you."

Will groaned loudly and let his head drop to the table.

Rachel sighed patiently, neatly placing her fork down. "Mr. Schue? You seem distressed."

"I am more than distressed, Rachel!" Will said without lifting his head from the tabletop.

"Well, that's no reason to get snippy with me."

"I'm _dead_," he moaned. "And so are you—"

"I'll have you know I am _un_dead."

He frowned raising his head to squint at her. "What's the difference?"

"For starters, people can see me because I have a body," she explained with a casual shrug, taking another bite of pie. "You don't."

"Well, how come you get a body and I don't? That's not fair."

Rachel put her fork down again, speaking with a sudden tone that was void of nonchalance. "First of all, when it comes to life and death nothing is fair. You're dealt the hand you're dealt and that's that." And then the cheery voice was back as if it was never gone. "And second, I'm a Reaper, which means I get certain perks that come with the job. You're not a Reaper yet, so you don't get the perks." She beamed. "I'm going to get a cup of coffee, would you like one?"

Will stared at her. "Hold on. Did you just say 'yet'? Did you say I'm 'not a Reaper…_yet_'?"

She grinned and nodded. "Remember that guy who bumped into you right before you died?"

"Uh-huh…"

"Well, he was a Reaper, and you filled his quota, so now you get to take his place." She smiled as if what she'd just said made perfect sense and flagged down the waitress. "Could I get a cup of decaf, please? Thanks so much."

The waitress turned to Will. "Somethin' for you, sir?"

He did a double-take. "Wha—? Um…" He looked, startled, to Rachel. "I thought you just said—"

"Yes, but that was before and this is now, so tell her what you want," she said.

Will shook his head, completely stunned, and turned back to the waitress, who was staring at him as if she was contemplating what size straitjacket he needed. "Uh…coffee's fine."

Once the waitress had wandered off, Will snapped his attention back to his former student. "You told me no one could see me!"

"But you're undead now, so you have a body," Rachel retorted, as if this was the most obvious thing in the world.

Will stared at her, agape. He'd gone from living to dead to undead in less than an hour. He gave his head a shake and said, "Okay, you're gonna have to start giving me some clear answers right about now, because I'm seriously confused."

Rachel gave an almost-patronizing sigh, placed her fork down, and leaned on her crossed arms. "When someone dies, their soul has to vacate the body, right? That's what we do. We reap the souls and guide them to their next stop."

"You keep saying 'we' and I'm really not sure I'm comfortable with that."

"I told you, you filled someone's quota."

"But what does that _mean?_"

"It means you're a Grim Reaper now too."

"Come again?"

"Mr. Schue, every Reaper is assigned an allotment of souls that they have to reap during their time on the job," Rachel stated. It was still giving Will the creeps that she was tossing around words like _soul_ and _reaper_ as if it was a normal thing to be discussing a Grim Reaper's job requirements over pie and coffee. "We aren't told how many, so we don't know until we've reaped the very last one and we get our promotion. And when we _do_ get our promotion, someone has to take our place. So what better person to fill the slot than the very last soul to be reaped?"

"I don't know, someone who's better qualified?"

Rachel shot him a look. "That question was intended to be rhetorical, Mr. Schue." She took another bite of pie. "And no, there's nobody who's better qualified. The upper management doesn't want to get their hands dirty, and the living have no idea that any of this goes on. Nobody knows a thing at entry level. It's a learn-as-you-go position. You want a bite?" She pushed the plate towards him. He ignored it.

"You keep talking about this stuff like it's an employment thing," he snapped.

"Well…it is."

"Then there has to be a contract of some sort, right?"

"You signed your contract when you got hit by the bus."

Will was about to retort, but the waitress returned with their coffees. "Well, can't I quit?" he asked once she'd left again. "Contracts always have a way to be voided."

"Not fateful ones," Rachel said in a slightly sing-song tone as she finished off her pie. "Look, this isn't the kind of thing where you can just walk off and strike. Death, once it's been had, cannot be revoked. It's a destiny thing. You might as well accept it."

_Stage Five: Acceptance._ Will sighed. "Okay, let's just say I go along with this Grim Reaper stuff. How does it work?"

"I get the list of who's dying, where, and when. Then I decide which souls are going to be reaped by who, and you and the others take your assignments and complete them. Simple as that."

"Hold on. Others?"

"Of course, Mr. Schue. Hundreds of thousands of people die every day. If there was only one Reaper responsible for all of them, his or her head would explode," she said. "Our team consists of five Reapers, including myself and you. You'll meet them soon enough."

Will couldn't help but think that her explanation was starting to sound suspiciously similar to Figgins' old orientation video for incoming freshmen. "So who gives you the list?"

"Upper management."

"And who is that?"

"I've no idea," she said, appearing pensive as she stirred an unholy amount of sugar into her coffee. "Angels, maybe. Nobody really knows."

"This is all sounding incredibly hokey."

She shrugged, taking a delicate sip of her coffee, then grimacing and adding another three teaspoons of sugar. "Hokey or not, this is as real as it gets."

"Do we get paid?"

"No." And before Will could begin to express his outrage, she looked past him towards the diner's front door, waving and calling out, "Julie! Over here!"

A young-ish African American woman with her hair in cornrows plopped into the booth next to Will. "Hey, Rachel. New guy?"

"Julie, this is Will Schuester. Will, this is Julie."

Julie grinned and held out her hand. "Welcome to the division."

He shook it, a perplexed look on his face. "Division?" he echoed.

Rachel beamed with pride. "Our team is part of the External Influence Division."

"External Influence?" Will repeated, looking slightly grossed out.

"Yeah, like suicide or homicide," Julie said, a little too cheerfully to not be disturbing.

"Or bus crashes," Will added miserably.

Rachel patted his arm in an attempt to console. "Julie, can Will tag along with you on your appointment this afternoon? You can show him the ropes."

"No problem. Looks like you and me got a baseball game to catch," Julie said, nudging Will in the shoulder.

"Good, now I can use that time to find you someplace to live, Will," Rachel said, flashing another one of her trademark smiles that were so optimistic they bordered on scary.

"Wait, since when do you call me Will?" he said to Rachel.

Her eyebrows shot up. "Oh, didn't I tell you?" She took a sip of her coffee. "I get the lists, which means I assign the souls you reap, which in turn means that I'm your new boss."

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**A/N: Leave a review! And don't forget to check out the other _Expect the Unexpected_ installments via my profile if you haven't read them already.**


	3. Chapter 3

_Somewhere Under The Rainbow_

_I am in Hell._

_That's what this is. I did something wrong and I've been sent to Hell. I'm undead, I'm a Grim Reaper, and – oh my God – Rachel Berry is my boss. Dear Lord, get me out of this._

"You're not in Hell."

Will jumped. "Is mind reading one of the job perks?" he snapped.

Rachel chuckled. "No. You're just very, very obvious." She slung her purse over her shoulder, throwing a few dollar bills onto the table and snatching her car keys. "I'm off to find you an apartment. Just follow Julie, she'll teach you the job requirements, etcetera. Have a good afternoon; I'll see you later." And with a terrifyingly sunny smile, she swept out of the diner.

"Don't worry," Julie said, getting up and taking Rachel's seat so that she could sit across from Will. "It's easier than it sounds. I'm actually glad you're here – the guy you replaced was a cocky son of a bitch."

"Thanks," Will drawled. "So...what happens now?"

Julie checked her watch. "Well, I got an appointment for quarter after four at the Yankee Stadium, and with the traffic, we should probably leave in about ten minutes."

"Traffic? What about the subway?"

"I'm talking about people traffic. They're playing the Red Sox today; it's gonna be crowded. And we need to be in there before the game starts, otherwise we won't make it."

"Great."

Julie laughed, and then a small blond boy who looked to be about nine years old came into the diner and jumped up onto the booth beside her without so much as a hello. "Hey, Charlie," Julie said.

Rather than return the greeting, Charlie looked around the diner. "Where's that fucking waitress? I'm starving."

"Relax, boy, she's in the back. Meet the new guy," Julie gestured to Will, whose eyebrows shot up in surprise. _They have a kid on the task force?_

"Oh, hey, man," Charlie said, shaking Will's hand with an iron grip. "So how'd you kick it?"

"Um...bus crash."

Charlie clicked his tongue against his teeth and shrugged. "Sucks. Is Julie mentoring you?"

"Yep," Julie answered for him. "And we gotta go soon, so let me know what you're ordering."

Charlie let out an exaggerated sigh, grinning mischievously at her. "I love that I'm young enough to bum meals off of you."

"I know, you've told me hundreds of times," Julie shot back, though it was obvious that this was some sort of regular comedy routine – the sarcasm was synonymous with affection. Will was briefly reminded of Kurt and Mercedes, who he'd not heard from for the last six years since their graduation, and he felt another sharp pang of homesickness.

"I'm getting the Lumberjack Breakfast, same as always," Charlie said, snapping Will out of his brief reverie.

Julie pulled some money out of her wallet and stuffed it into Charlie's small palm. "There you go, sport. Wait, don't you have an appointment for this afternoon?"

"No, it was this morning. Dead hooker."

Will choked on the last sip of his coffee.

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"So what are we doing here?" Will asked, almost shouting over the noise of the crowds as he tried to keep up with Julie.

"We observe from the sidelines," Julie said, scanning the crowd. "We watch for signs, indicators that could cause a death."

"Indicators? Like what?"

Julie pursed her lips for a second, then pointed towards the entrance to the stadium where the throngs of people seemed to be bottlenecking. "Those two guys there – one's wearing a Yankees shirt, the other's got a Sox cap." Will craned his neck and found the people Julie was pointing to – it was obvious even from this distance that there was some extreme animosity between them. The Sox fan shoved the Yankee, feigning a stumble. The Yankee shoved right back, but then the two of them disappeared into the crowd. "You'd be surprised how often a crazed sports fan accidentally causes the death of another on the opposing team."

"You think one of those guys is going to kill the other?" Will said, his eyes widening with worry.

Julie laughed. "No, I'm just using them as a prime example. I mean, just think of _all_ the different causes of death. And at a sports event like this, the list of possibilities is endless. Team rivalry. Injury on the field. Gas main explodes and there's a stampede. Hell, somebody chokes on a hot dog," she listed off. Will was growing more worried with every suggestion – besides the terrifying prospect of having to deal with any one of those death scenarios, it was more than a little disconcerting that it was now _his_ job to figure out which one was about to take place.

"The other divisions have it pretty easy compared to us," Julie admitted. "Natural Causes doesn't have to worry about popping the soul out _before_ the death, Plagues only has real work every few thousand years... The Pets division has a surplus of staff, so the people on _that_ team get days off all the time. But what makes our job easier is that people are stupid."

"I'm sorry?"

"People are _way_ too confident in their abilities to avoid bad luck. If everyone knew just how many times they narrowly missed death in a day, they'd never get out of bed again," Julie explained as they finally entered the stadium amidst the river of people, passing under the giant sign reading _GATE 2_. "And because people are stupid, the cause of death is usually pretty obvious. You just have to know what to look for. You watch _CSI_?"

"Uh—"

"How about _Law & Order_?"

Will shook his head, confused by her sudden change of topic. "Uh, yeah, but...what does that have to do with—?"

"Think of it this way," Julie cut him off. "You're a detective. A crime scene investigator. You take the clues that are given to you and you put the puzzle together. The only difference is that you're investigating the scene _before_ the crime takes place. You feel me?"

Will stared at her.

"Never mind, you'll get it. Just keep your eyes peeled. You want a hot dog?"

Will sighed. He was starting to feel like Julie was really just a black version of Rachel, and he did _not_ want to deal with two Rachels for God knew how long.

They found their seats and as they waited for the game to start, Will's eyes scanned the massive scope of the stadium. "Wait..." he said, catching Julie's attention. "What if the person who's going to die is on the other side of the stadium?"

She smiled and pulled a purple Post-It note from her pocket, handing it to Will.

_H. R. Bafford_

_Yankee Stadium: Main, Section 229_

_ETD: 4:16pm_

"They usually narrow it down a little for venues like this," Julie said.

The only thing Will could think to respond with was, "...You get your death appointment slips on a _Post-It_?"

"Yeah."

Will decided not to revisit the minor oddity. Because really, if he took in the big picture of everything that had happened that day, the fact that the appointment was written on a Post-It was not that big of a deal. Still, to think that people's deaths were determined by what was written on a common slip of sticky paper was a little demeaning.

He had yet to really absorb the whole thing, though. It boggled his mind to think that just that morning, he'd been doing his regular job, taking care of the Glee club, and focusing mainly on getting the dance steps drilled into the kids' heads. That National title had been _right there_ and within arm's reach, and now, he was being told that his main concern was ferrying human souls to the other side.

He studied the note. "What's an ETD? Estimated time of departure?"

"If you want to put it that way."

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**A/N: Since the last time I updated this, I've posted installments for Finn and Matt and Mike. Finn's installment already has almost 20 chapters :D Please read them if you haven't already. Also, I opened up a new poll - go to my profile to vote on which _Unexpected_ installment is your favorite! Leave a review!**


	4. Chapter 4

_Somewhere Under The Rainbow_

As the afternoon wore on, Will grew more and more antsy, repeatedly checking his watch and paying very little attention to the baseball game being carried out below. He jiggled his leg and glanced around at the people sitting nearby, trying to guess which one of them was the unsuspecting H. R. Bafford. The fat man to his right who was scarfing down a hot dog as if his life depended on it? The skinny blonde woman who was obviously not at all interested in sports and had only come because her boyfriend wanted her to? What if it was the six year old boy two rows down tugging on his dad's sleeve to get him a soda?

"_Relax_, new guy," Julie said after what seemed like ages. "Quit being so jumpy. The ETD is 4:16, so we've got another hour and a half before the poor sap kicks the bucket. Just relax."

Will forced out a long breath, leaning back in his seat.

"If it makes you feel any better, I was real nervous too," Julie said, lacing her hands in her lap and propping one leg up on the seat in front of her.

"Yeah?" he said.

"Yep. More than you, actually," she said, glancing up at the sky.

"What was it like?"

"It was…" She paused, chewing on the inside of her cheek in thought. "It was awful; it sucked." She shrugged. "The guy showing me the ropes was kind of a dick, and the reap was the victim of a bear mauling, so…yeah, it sucked on multiple levels."

Will winced. "I'm sorry."

Julie shrugged again, flapping a hand. "It was more than forty years ago," she said. "Just know that after your first reap, it only gets easier."

Will swallowed. "Forty years?" he echoed. "How long does this job usually last?"

"However long it takes. Remember, Rachel said we don't know we're done until we are."

"Well, that's stupid."

"You're telling me." Julie sat up as one of the New York ball players slid into home and half the stadium erupted into cheers, the other into boos. "Goddamn Yankees," she muttered.

"You're a Sox fan?"

Julie shrugged. "I'm from Boston originally. I got transferred here about ten years ago."

"Transferred?"

"Yeah. Happens every once in awhile; usually when someone fills their quota and the last reap was a kid."

"Why's that?"

"Kid reapers are automatically assigned to the Pets Division," Julie answered, taking a gulp of her Pepsi.

Will frowned. "What about Charlie?"

"Charlie was a fluke – an upper management fuck-up. Also happens every once in awhile."

"Huh," Will said in thought.

"So when'd you first ask your parents about the D-word?"

Will twisted his head to look at her in confusion. "What D-word?"

"You know," she said. "Death."

"Oh, uh…" Will thought hard, trying to remember. "I dunno, I'm not sure I ever actually asked my parents about death. Learned about it from other places, I guess."

"Well, my mom just about had a heart attack," Julie said, glancing up at the sky again. "Started rambling about how I wouldn't need to worry about it until I was older than she was." She gave a small dry chuckle. "Boy, was she wrong."

* * *

Slowly but surely, the minute hand crept around the face of Will's watch at a dreadfully glacial pace.

"It's 4:09," Will stated impatiently. "Shouldn't we be looking for this guy?"

"Relax," Julie said again. "We _are _looking for him."

"Okay…how?"

"By _studying_. Gotta learn to listen, rookie. Think reverse crime scene."

"None of what you just said makes sense."

Julie huffed through her nose. "Just shut up and _observe_, dammit."

Will sighed, turning his attention to the surrounding crowd. He heard no _H_ names being called, no "Hey, Mrs. Bafford, thanks for the hot dog", and he had no fucking clue what he was supposed to be looking for.

4:13.

He shifted anxiously in his seat, his fingers tapping on his knees.

4:15.

"Hey, Henry! What took you so long?"

Will and Julie's heads snapped up, following the shout to a man completely decked out in NY Yankees merchandise as he carefully made his way down the steps with his arms full of popcorn and soda. "What do you mean, what took me so long?" he called back to the man who'd first shouted from the row directly behind Will and Julie. "I had to get all this shit for ya; it's your goddamn fault you ordered three fucking Diet Cokes. Jesus."

"Ladies and gentlemen, we have a winner," Julie muttered under her breath, immediately jumping out of her seat and casually striding up the stairs. Will watched, wide-eyed as Julie brushed by the man, her hand subtly sweeping lightly over his shoulder. Her fingers were followed by a trail that shimmered very slightly, and an odd look crossed the man's features, as if he sensed that something was wrong. And just as quickly as the encounter had begun, it was over, and Julie was standing on the upper landing, thumbs hooked in her pockets as she waited for the man to die.

Will's body tensed as he imagined the guy tripping and snapping his neck on the stairs, or possibly choking on the wad of gum he was chewing. He checked his watch again. 4:16.

A pigeon flapped through the air above, and suddenly, the guy sputtered and cried, "Oh, what is this shit? Goddamn it!" as a milky white substance dripped from his hair towards his eye. "Fucking sky rat!" Half-blinded, he lost his footing on the next step, and his armload of snacks and drinks scattered and spilled over the concrete as he tumbled down towards the ball field. And kept tumbling.

People in the nearby stands shrieked or stood up to gawk as gravity worked its magic, but Will jumped out of his seat and ran up the steps to join Julie, more than a little freaked out. All day, he'd gone along with the stunts and freaky explanations that Rachel had offered without really absorbing any of it. Now, he'd been slammed hard into Acceptance, and he was starting to truly believe that all of this was real. And the only thing running through his head was _shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit SHIT._

Once Henry R. Bafford had hit the bottom of the stairs, he reappeared on the landing where Julie and Will were standing, staring dazedly down to where his body lay obscured by the crowd now gathering around it.

"Holy shit," he said. "Am I dead?"

"Yep," said Julie. "Come on." Grabbing him by the upper arm, she led him in the opposite direction, and the three of them climbed up the stairs. Will was trying his best not to look back.

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**A/N: **Leave a review and let me know what you thought :) Oh yeah, and you can follow me on Twitter now, at Palolatte. Or just follow the link on my profile, if you're as lazy as I am.


	5. Chapter 5

_Somewhere Under The Rainbow_

As Will, Julie, and the recently-deceased Henry R. Bafford left Yankee Stadium (dealing with all of the dead man's questions along the way), Will asked Julie what they were going to do with him now that the soul was no longer attached to a body.

"Just wait a couple seconds and you'll see," she replied with a wink.

Once the three of them were in the parking lot, Julie pulled on Bafford's arm, stopping where she stood. Will stopped as well, following Julie's gaze to see a shifting, glimmering mirage hovering about three feet off the pavement a ways ahead.

"What _is_ that?" asked Bafford in awe.

Julie patted him on the back. "That's your ticket out of here."

Bafford smiled as the mirage began to take the shape of two men – one crouching down and in full catcher's gear, the other standing and holding a baseball bat at the ready. A small glowing ball of light appeared and flew towards them, and the man swung his bat, making a solid connection with the ball as the faint sound of cheering momentarily overpowered the distant noise of traffic in the city. Instead of running to first base, the man held out the bat towards Bafford, who looked to Julie with uncertainty. "Go on," she said, patting his back again. Bafford's face broke into a grin, and he strode forward to grab the bat. As he took his position to swing, he and the rest of the light show began to disintegrate, evaporating into the atmosphere. Within moments, there was nothing there at all.

Will stared at the empty space, stunned. "Where'd he go?"

Julie shrugged, beginning the long trek across the parking lot back towards the subway. "It's not for us to know."

Will frowned, contemplating what he'd just witnessed until Julie called over her shoulder, "Come on, new guy! Rachel's waiting for us at Millie's."

* * *

Back at Millie's Diner, Will and Julie found Rachel in the same booth as before, sitting across from an elderly man in a tweed jacket and a cap that looked like it had been made in the '30s. Julie slid onto the bench next to the man, while Will sat next to Rachel.

"How did the reap go?" Rachel inquired, delicately sipping an Earl Grey tea.

"Swimmingly," Julie said absentmindedly, glancing over the diner's menu. "I'm starving. Will, you want anything? It's on me."

Will shook his head. "Thanks, but—" he started.

"Will's tab is on _me_ until he finds a steady income," Rachel insisted.

"Rachel, that's not—"

She flapped her hand dismissively. "I'm the boss, Will, it's my job to make sure that all employees are properly cared for until they get their feet solidly planted on the ground."

Will gave his head a shake, still in the process of absorbing everything. The idea of Rachel supporting _him_ on a financial level would take some getting used to.

"Ahem."

Will had almost forgotten about the elderly man sitting next to Julie, and apparently Rachel had as well. "Oh, sorry. Will, this is Jack – he's our fifth reaper."

Jack reached across the table to shake Will's hand. "Pleased to meet you, William," he said with a wide and welcoming grin. His eyes crinkled and his voice sounded as if he'd once starred in a movie with Irene Dunne.

The waitress from before appeared, asking if Will and Julie wanted anything.

"I'm gonna get a cheeseburger and a Pepsi," Julie said. "Thanks, Alison."

Alison nodded and went to fill out the order.

"Now, Will," Rachel said, her tone changing from idle to business-like as she pulled a fat, leather-bound daily planner out of her purse. "I've found a place for you. It's a bit small, but I think it'll be fine, at least until you can get a new place."

"Where is it?"

She peeled a neon-pink Post-It note out of the notebook and handed it to him. "That's the address. It's about two blocks away from Central Park, great location, and the space is well-organized."

Will frowned. "What does that mean?"

"Well, as I said, it's a little bit small."

"How small?"

"Ninety square feet."

Will's eyebrows disappeared into his hairline. "_Ninety?_"

"Roughly."

"Aw, come on, Rachel," Julie protested. "You couldn't find anything bigger?"

Jack shook his head, tut-tutting. "It's criminal to live in a space that small."

"I _said_ it was well-organized," Rachel defended herself.

"Is there even enough room for a bed?" Julie asked.

"Of course there is – the bed's on a loft."

"Oh, so it's got a low ceiling as well."

"William's quite a tall boy! He'll be hitting his head every five minutes!" Jack exclaimed.

Will frowned at Jack's use of 'boy', and Rachel rolled her eyes. "Well, you could at least give it a look before you dismiss it as a hole-in-the-wall." She turned to her former teacher. "Just come see it, Will. I think you'll actually like it."

Will sighed, but forced himself to see reason. He now was burdened with a job that paid nothing (less than nothing, actually, if he factored in the time it would suck away from any other money-earning opportunities that could present themselves), stuck living in _Manhattan_, and, judging by the growling in his stomach, just because he was dead didn't mean he didn't have to eat. "Fine," he said. "I'll take a look at it."

Half an hour later, Rachel and Will had taken the subway to Central Park and then walked two blocks to a four-story brick building that was painted white. Will had to admit that from the outside, it didn't look half-bad. Of course, his opinion was probably going to change once he saw the mousehole, so he wasn't about to move in just yet.

Inside the building, they squeezed into an old, cramped elevator with a gate that you had to slide shut. "I love it already," Will said dryly. Rachel gave him a look.

"So how long have you been a Grim Reaper again?"

Rachel blew air through her nose, looking up at the graffitied ceiling in thought. "It's been about… three and a half years now. May nineteenth is my death day."

Will wrinkled his nose. "Death day?" he echoed. "You don't actually celebrate those, do you?"

She shrugged. "We have to celebrate something, don't we?"

The elevator pulled to a stop and Rachel yanked the gate open, leading Will down the hall to a narrow door at the very end. "Here we are," she announced cheerfully, taking a ring of keys out of her purse and trying the first one. "Damn. I could've sworn I remembered which one it was," she said, half to herself.

Will looked around the deserted and ill-lit hallway. "How did you find this place, anyway?"

"I have connections in the other Divisions," she explained over her shoulder, trying another key. "I can always ask about spaces that recently opened up."

Will swallowed, suddenly understanding what she meant. "Wait, there's… there's not a dead person in there. Right?"

"No, of course not."

Will relaxed.

"The former resident threw herself out of the window."

"Oh. Of course she did."

* * *

**A/N: Yes, the name of the diner is a subtle homage to the original Dead Like Me cast of characters. Please leave a review!**


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